


I hold you in my arms (and you pull yourself closer)

by Garecc, Gunpowderdtim (Garecc)



Series: Ready, Aim, Fire [14]
Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Angst, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Immortality, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Soft Jonny d'Ville, i just think tim deserves hugs and also this is sad oh no
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:47:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26361388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Garecc/pseuds/Garecc, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Garecc/pseuds/Gunpowderdtim
Summary: Tim is sad. Jonny gives good hugs. Tim is awful at asking for hugs. Thats about it.
Relationships: Jonny d'Ville & Gunpowder Tim
Series: Ready, Aim, Fire [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1799860
Comments: 7
Kudos: 128





	I hold you in my arms (and you pull yourself closer)

Jonny's hugs were warm, solid.

Safe.

He might be short, but he was strong. Stable. (Physically, he wasn't going to fall, stable isn't something Tim would ever apply to Jonny's mental state)

He wasn't going anywhere.

He was permanent.

He wasn't going to leave or die or vanish.

Tim mashed his face into Jonny's shoulder. Trying to not admit to himself that he's absolutely clinging.

Jonny was warm.

Safe.

Tim stood there for a bit too long, seconds ticking by to the tune of Jonny's heart made it go from ‘normal if slightly long’ to ‘okay yeah you're touch starved but I have been hugging you for a solid minute I'm getting uncomfortable.’ 

Jonny was so _safe_ , though.

He wasn't in a shitty mood. He wasn't going for his gun. He was just here and holding him.

Nothing was going to hurt him. No one was going to yell at him.

He really didn't want to let go.

He really didn't want the feeling of safety to fade.

He really just wanted to stay there forever. Or possibly start crying and just cling to Jonny crying until all the fear left. 

But if he started crying it would spiral into a full breakdown. And Tim really, really didn't want to have a full breakdown.

He'd fall apart and he doesn't know how the hell he'd piece himself together again.

He'd fall apart and the emotions that would come with that arnt worth the energy.

As he stood there, anxiety swirled in his chest and he tried to banish it as he just clings to Jonny a bit tighter.

He sort of feels like he's going to start crying if he lets go or stays or even exists.

He takes a breath he hopes isn't obviously shaky and steps back, trying to smile.

(He's going to have a breakdown later.)

Jonny blinked at him owlishly. "Is that all?"

Tim wanted to cuddle.

Wanted to ask.

Wanted to start crying about absolutely nothing because he's so upset about so many small things and he doesn't know how to say 'I want you to hold me until I stop being anxious' or 'I'm kinda having a crisis about nothing and everything and I could really do with someone sitting with me until im okay'

"Ah- no. Actually."

"...okay?"

"Could you- um. We- I uh." Tim said eloquently. "Im cold."

Jonny just blinked at him.

Tim mentally kicked himself.

"...do you want me to make you a coat or something?" Jonny said, attempting to interpret that.

"That would be nice." Tim nodded. That was a valid interpretation. I guess. "But um. Could we just- cuddle?"

Jonny stared at him for a solid few seconds and Tim felt his heart climb up his throat further with every passing second.

Oh _god_ he's going to start crying if Jonny says no right now. He's going to feel so guilty about crying. Jonny is going to freak out and be guilty because he said no and he started crying they're going to have to _talk_ and _fuck_ what Tim would give for that feeling of security again.

A second passed between what Tim said and Jonny's reply and Tim panicked.

"I- uh it's okay if- it's fine if you don't want-"

"Yeah okay when?" Jonny said, cutting off Tim's anxious ramble. "I was going to go have an entirely friendly not murdery 'conversation' with Nastya and then chat with Brian for reasons that dont involve a cannon and octokittens, but if you want we can cuddle later?"

"I- yeah." Tim tried to smile and not act like he's about to have a breakdown. "Please." 

Jonny nodded stiffly, not noticing to Tim's relief or the fact Tim was going to start sobbing approximately whenever he was alone. Jonny turned to go. "See you later."

Tim nodded, trying to keep his hands steady and went to retreat to his room.

He collapsed onto his bed and just let himself start crying. 

_He doesn't even know why he's upset._

His hands shook as he ran them through his hair.

He doesn't know why he's upset.

He doesn't have tear ducts, he can't even properly cry.

His chest heaved and he just sobbed.

He's immortal. He can't die. He's never seeing his earth again. He's alone. He kind of wants to die on some level. He's scared.

Bertie is dead.

He's been dead for ages now but as he cries the grief hits him again and he curls over his arms.

He's dead. And Tim is dead too. Been dead a hundred ways and woke up every time. 

He's going to break apart one of these days and nothing no matter what he does will resemble who he was before. Something is going to crack in him and he won't be able to piece the shattered pieces of himself back into anything coherent. 

He's already cracked and he's quickly heading towards broken. 

His lungs expand and contract and he knows he should try and count his breaths knows he should do anything but breathe faster because that makes everything worse.

He grips the sheets then his hair then his wrists then his fingers find themselves at his eyes. Pressing at the edges of the plates and he's picking at the skin as he yells at himself to just fucking _breathe_.

He doesn't even know why he's upset. Nothing happened. _Nothing happened_. But now he's hyperventilating and sobbing over a million things he can't name adding up and Tim really doesn't know if he wants to be alone. 

Doesn't know if he would rather have someone sitting with him a hand on his back or if he'd rather sit here alone without the worry of someone worrying someone seeing of this breakdown being known.

He _really_ doesn't want to talk about this.

Talking about it would require thinking about it. Thinking about the reasons he's upset and identifying the whys and putting his trauma in a neat little order of why and how it's effected him.

And it's so, so, so much easier to just shove it down and laugh and say it's fine and ignore how things make his heart race and ignore how he paces and paces and paces and and how sometimes everything is so much and he _can't take it._

Talking would require laying everything out and having to acknowledge that it's always been there. Curling dark inside him and festering. Fear terror resentment and anger at everything he's gone through. Ugly horrible emotions that are so much better ignored and beaten down.

Because talking means acknowledging the problem and _like hell_ if he's going to do that.

His fingers are wet against the corners of his eyes and its not from tears. He spares a glance at his fingers between strangled breaths and they're red.

He knows better than this.

He's better than this. Than sobbing over fucking nothing for hours.

He just wants someone to love him.

 _Anyone_ to love him.

Eventually he manages to stop crying. 

Manages to get his breathing even and to properly wipe the blood off his face.

He had a headache now.

His eyes ache.

He felt so tired.

He thinks he might start crying again if he lays down. 

Not the chest heaving, loud miserable crying, but the silent version. When you're so tired and exhausted from emotions you just put your head down and have tears roll down your face. But he doesn't have tear ducts, so what does it matter anyway.

Jonny was probably going to approach him later.

He'd made the plan himself.

He felt far too exhausted to even think about that now.

But Jonny holding him and them just not talking about how fucked up he is and just being able to seek comfort and feel safe was.. Fuck it was alluring.

He was going to start crying again the moment Jonny hugged him.

The moment he even spoke to Jonny.

He rested his head in his palms.

He was so tired.

* * *

Jonny knocked on Tim's door. "Tim?"

Tim didn't respond, hoping on some level Jonny would just leave and he could avoid all this. 

"Tim!" Jonny said a bit louder. And Tim accepted his fate of having to face Jonny.

"Yeah?" If Jonny noticed the shake in Tim's voice, he didn't say anything.

"Can I come in?" Jonny asked. There weren't any obvious tells of 'Aurora told me you were crying' or 'you worried me earlier so I thought I should check and make sure you didn't kill yourself so many times that you take a week to reform', and Tim didn't exactly think he should say no. Especially since he was crying. Especially since he didn't really think he should be alone right now.

"Ah- um. Yeah. Sure."

Jonny stepped in, stared him for half a second, half shocked half worried at how much of a wreck he probably looked. 

"Are you okay?" Jonny signs quickly. 

“I- Uh. Yeah? Maybe.”

Jonny looked about the furthest thing from convinced. Skeptical.

"You said you wanted to cuddle." He signs, he doesn't look accusatory just worried.

Tim goes a bit still. He'd been that, but it doesn't change the fact. “Honestly, I don't know right now. I’m in a weird mood.” The answer is yes, but Tim also doesn't want to start crying again.

"Can I sit down?" Jonny says. Out loud. His eyes drift away from Tim, then focus on him again. His voice is almost soft, and most certainly caring. It would have been a shock if Tim hadn’t very nearly broken down sobbing in his arms earlier.

“Please.” Tim knew he failed to keep his voice from shaking when Jonny's expression somehow softened further.

He sat down. Tim really, really just wanted to curl into his arms and never let go.

“I’m sorry I’m just- Upset. About things. And stuff. I guess.”

Jonny, after a few seconds of silence, takes Tim’s hand. It was warm in his. He nodded, clearly waiting for Tim to continue.

“Could you just— stay with me awhile?”

“Course.” Jonny replied and his voice was bordering on too soft too gentle too understanding and Tim REALLY felt like he was going to start crying again. 

Tim moved closer, and with a moments hesitation, he leaned against Jonny’s side.

Jonny wrapped an arm around him like it was muscle memory.

“I- I’ve just had a shit day.” Tim mumbled. Leaning into Jonny. Leaning into the promise of comfort. “I’m just kind of overwhelmed. I guess.”

Jonny nodded, drumming his fingers lightly against Tim's bed. A familiar tune Tim couldn't place. "Anything else? Did something in particular cause it?"

“I just- I don't know. Upset over everything and nothing and you know when you just can't stop thinking? And then you freak yourself out and you're almost crying and you know you don't really have any reason to be upset? Because nothing even _happened_ and you're just upset anyway?” 

“Mmhm.”

“I just- I don't want to be alone."

"Then I'll stay." Jonny said with half a smile.

Tim turned and just hugged Jonny. 

Jonny was still for half a second before wrapping his arms around Tim, pulling him closer. 

Tim started crying, couldn't help it as his barely contained emotions bubbled over.

Jonny stilled a moment, then just pulled him closer.

Tim was sobbing. He didn't even know why he was upset. But Jonny was here. Jonny was hugging him. 

It was nice. Tim decided. To have someone here.

It was nice.

He was safe.


End file.
